


knock out

by biellby



Category: Arrow (TV 2012), DCU, Green Arrow (Comics)
Genre: Gen, Laurel Lance is the Black Canary, Pre-Relationship, Secret Identity, Somehow a Meet Cute, even though they’ve already met, fusion between arrow and general comic stuff, i basically took what i liked and ignored the rest, snippet of a larger work
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-27
Updated: 2018-08-27
Packaged: 2019-07-03 04:52:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15811755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/biellby/pseuds/biellby
Summary: “Rude to take a man’s weapon,” he comments, sizing her up now that she was facing him. She was fast and smart, not afraid of him. That would be her mistake.“Just putting us on even ground,” she says. “I take it that whoever wins gets the city?”“Something like that.”(In which the Arrow is proven wrong, the Black Canary is proven right, and the tone is generally set for how things go between the two of them.)





	knock out

**Author's Note:**

> I first had an idea for a story where Laurel Lance becomes the Black Canary about a year ago, and as I did more research into who the character is and her original backstory, I found myself changing more and more of the show’s canon to fit some beautiful plot lines and stories from earlier writers. This is a snippet from my larger universe that I hope someday to post, which is a mix of things from (mainly) seasons 1 and 2 of Arrow, the comic backstor(ies) of Black Canary, my need to see Laurel Lance get what she deserves, and my attempt to build a larger universe that could realistically include Batman, Superman, Wonder Woman, and others in a larger sense than cameos or scenes on Supergirl. Hope you all like it and would be interested in me extending this!

Oliver watches her from the shadows. 

Despite five years of planning, months of weaving contingency after contingency when getting back to Starling started to look like a real possibility, he never calculated for this- to come home and find that someone has already been saving the city without him. 

Part of him is proud, he can admit that, as she ducks under a punch and delivers a swift jab to the ribs in retaliation. The thug goes down. 

She’s not perfect. It’s sloppy, a bit too eager, but she’s getting the job done. The Black Canary is out there fighting for Starling, and he can admire her for that. 

The larger part of him, honed by pain, hunger, and fear, can only focus on the imperfections. She’s sloppy, she’s eager, and she’ll get herself killed out there. Or worse, she might try and get in his way. 

The Black Canary didn’t kill. Oliver did. He doesn’t have a problem with her, but he knows people like her. People like Laurel, who believed in the law. Even though Canary worked outside it, she still upheld it in a way the Hood could not. 

People like her have problems with people like him. From what he’s seen scouring the news sites and shaky phone recordings, she won’t hesitate to bring the fight to him. 

With a grunt, she knocks the last of the convenience store robbers out, breathing heavily. 

Oliver knows she’s going to try and stop him. A decent person would, and the Black Canary was better than just decent. It might as well be now, in an empty alley and not when he’d be in the middle of fighting someone who had no compunctions with shooting down someone trying to save their life. 

It’s backwards, he knows, to beat her in order to save her. He’s a hypocrite, a liar, and a murderer. No one expects anything better. 

He makes sure the hood is firmly pulled over his head before dropping off the roof, landing a foot behind her. 

She startles, clearly thinking she had been alone. He can’t help but notice she’s still breathing quickly, breaths of air strangely intimate in the dark air. He could reach out and touch her right now. 

Instead, he nocks an arrow. Oliver is here to scare her off, not make a friend. In the quiet, she can hear the pull of the string, practically feel the arrow pointed at her.

It’s pointed at her leg. She doesn’t need to know that, though. 

“You’re the Hood,” Black Canary breathes. “You saved Oliver Queen and Tommy Merlyn yesterday. You threatened Adam Hunt tonight. And now you’re here. Why?”

“To tell you not to try and stop me,” he grits out, still not used to the voice modulator. “This city is sick and dying, and over the years, you’ve been fighting the symptoms. You need to let me destroy the disease.”

“You’re warning me off?” she asks incredulously. 

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

Black Canary sighs. He tenses, aims where he’s sure there’s no artery. “Funny that you think you can.”

She springs, he fires. Surprisingly, the arrow misses, and a blur is coming at him from the left. 

She threw herself at the wall, he realizes, instead of at him like he expected. Used the wall as a springboard, he thinks, as she kicks the bow out of his hand. 

In a life or death situation, Oliver would use his hand to guide the arrow clutched in it just as gracefully as a bow would. However, he meant what he said. He doesn’t want to hurt her. 

“Rude to take a man’s weapon,” he comments, sizing her up now that she was facing him. She was fast and smart, not afraid of him. That would be her mistake. 

“Just putting us on even ground,” she says. “I take it that whoever wins gets the city?”

“Something like that.”

They’re circling without even thinking about it, hungry. Oliver can’t help but notice the curve of her body against the night, the crinkles of tight leather against her skin. 

She’s, as expected, the first to move, swinging a fist. He easily dodges, grabbing her hand at the same time. He should let her go, but he pulls her closer, letting the momentum crash her into him. Her eyes are blue, bright against the mask. 

“You’re telegraphing.” 

She pushes herself away, no time for a smart comment. Tries to kick him within the next second. He catches her foot, flips her over. 

She was fast. He’s faster. Stronger too, he notices, as she arches her back, bucking to get out of his grip. Oliver’s mouth dries, picturing another occasion in which he might be on top of her, in a world where he didn’t have a list and a tainted soul. 

“You’re good,” she pants, lying still in order to peer up at him. His thighs press against hers, hardened muscle against hardened muscle. 

“You should see me when I’m trying.” The flirtatious comment slips out without thought, Ollie taking over. 

She smirks. “I guess you’ve won.”

“You won’t interfere with me,” he says, tightening his grip. He didn’t like that she was so calm. Black Canary winced. 

“If I won, would you do the same?” she asks, blowing a piece of hair out of her face. 

He has the time to say something along the affirmative, something surely too lighthearted for a wanted vigilante fighting in the streets, while noticing with a horrible sped-up slow motion that she didn’t sound winded at all anymore, that something was off, before he’s being thrown into a wall. 

Black Canary has a triumphant grin on her face and a hand to his neck. It’s slim and scarred but not painful. Just dominating.

Oliver is coming to some painful realizations. “You threw the fight.”

“Mmm-hmm.”

He could probably try and break free. He thinks she’d probably have him down again within seconds. She’s fast and smart, smart enough to disarm him, to trick him into a fight for the city, all while letting him think he was in control...

“You knew I was watching.”

Like he was thinking, a lot of painful truths. 

“Green is not subtle. All it took were a few ugly punches and you fell for it, hook, line, and sinker.”

She sounds so pleased. It shouldn’t be making him smirk. 

“Done mocking my manhood?” he grumbles. 

She tilts her head to the side, considering. “Not really. In the name of sportsmanship, though, I’ll stop.”

Black Canary stands, extending him a hand. He shouldn’t take it, but he does. 

“What now?”

Oliver can’t leave Starling, can’t stop fighting, but he can’t beat her. It rankles, this feeling of helplessness. 

“I guess you,” she deepens her voice, “destroy the diseases poisoning your city.”

“I thought you were done with the mocking,” he says, before the words catch up to him. “Wait, what?”

Black Canary hasn’t let go of his hand. She’s staring at him, big blue eyes sparkling earnestly. They remind him of something, most likely lost five years ago. 

“You’re a good man, Hood. You care about Starling, just like me. I want to help you save this city, but we save it my way. No killing, no threats, no using that stupid voice.”

Oliver aches. It’s been so long since someone looked at him and expected to see someone better than he was. 

“It’s intimidating.” He doesn’t know what else to say. Black Canary will have a habit of leaving him speechless. 

“I’ll take that as an I’m in, boss! kind of thing.”

“You will not be my boss. I will not be your sidekick.”

“Partners then?” 

She still is holding his hand. It’s scarred, just like his. 

Oliver Queen has been tortured, has lost so many people, has lost parts of himself day by day. He’s killed, he’s planned on doing it again. He’s even liked it. 

He doesn’t have to. Black Canary looks at him expectedly. Oliver finds he doesn’t want to, either. 

He nods, shaking their hands decisively, letting go quickly before she or he can take it back. 

“Partners.”

Her smile is blinding in the dark. Something torn inside him starts knitting itself back together.

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, I borrowed a lot of this from Justice League Unlimited, but to be fair, it’s an iconic scene. Just look up this: https://youtu.be/-WT5RBZT_l8 and enjoy! I swear I’ll someday work her sparring question into dialogue someday :)


End file.
